Struggling. It's my grandma's birthday today. I miss her so much, it's still like there's a giant chunk missing from my heart. I feel so sick and guilty. It should have been me who died. I have dreams that I could go to her grave, tell her about my day, talk about painting... But they had her cremated. There is no grave. I guess I just want some way to hold on to her.
So I've been clawing at my hand all day. It's all raw and hurts like a b****. Everything had mostly healed until now - and I've just slipped right back down again. The scratches aren't enough. I need the deep cuts. The ones that give you that dull ache and all the emotional pain goes away for a minute. The ones that take weeks to heal and leave that beautiful wide scar.
But what I really want is to stop caring. To cut too deep and not give a s***. Take an overdose and not have to worry about the concequences. I just want to make it all go away.
All the motivation is slipping away from me and I'm really scared.